The Beginning of Always
by tiny-turtle-7
Summary: NCIS Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs is enjoying life. He's married to a great girl, Shannon, he loves his job and his coworkers, and he lives in a great neighborhood. But there's one thing missing: a kid. Enter smart, funny, sweet, Anthony DiNozzo, Jr, an eleven-year-old kid with an unfortunate past. AU.
1. the beginning of always

**"Remember tonight, for it is the beginning of always."**

 **\- Dante Alighieri**

* * *

 _Saturday Afternoon_

 _02 June 2017_

 _Lincoln, Maryland_

"I'm home, Shan," Leroy Jethro Gibbs called as he entered the house.

His wife (wife!) came around the corner, drying her hands on a dish towel, beaming. "Jethro!"

"Hi," he said, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Stop it!" Shannon grinned, snapping the dish towel at him.

He laughed and stepped toward her, making a lunge for the towel. She dodged around him, still snapping the pale yellow towel, the one with the duck pattern. The newly-married couple danced around each other until a knock on the door made them both still.

"I got it, honey," Jethro said. "Stay here, okay?"

He opened the door.

* * *

 _Saturday Night_

 _02 June 2017_

 _Bethesda Naval Hospital_

"Has he woken up yet?" Shannon asked, entering the room with another coffee.

"Not yet," Jethro said. He accepted the coffee and took a gulp.

"Stop, J, you'll choke, and then I'll have to file a report with Tom," Shannon complained.

He beamed up at her. "No, I won't. I love you too much to choke on coffee. Besides, that's a crappy way to go."

"Shut up, Jethro," she teased light-heartedly.

A nurse came into the room with a packet of papers. "Anthony DiNozzo, correct?"

"Yes," Shannon answered shakily. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the nurse grinned. "I just wanted to let you know that you've been granted temporary custody. With a chance to adopt. And Dr. Evans will be in here soon to check up on Anthony."

She handed Shannon the papers and then slipped quietly out of the room.

"Oh, my God, J!" Shannon exclaimed.

"He's ours," Jethro whispered back at her, beaming.

"Oh, my God," Shannon repeated again. "He's ours!"

* * *

 _Sunday Morning_

 _03 June 2017_

 _Bethesda Naval Hospital_

Shannon was sleeping, head down on Jethro's shoulder. He was still awake, silently watching the boy in the bed. He had read the file, he knew what had happened in their boy's (theirs!) life. Knew about his first family, the loving Naval Academy graduate, naval pilot, Blue Angel, father, and the teacher mother who had been killed in a violent car accident by a drunk driver. Knew about the foster "parents" who had followed, and the abuse Tony had gotten at their hands, abuse that had landed him here, in the hospital. Knew that he and Shannon were Tony's last chance at a good home.

 _Begin Flashback._

 _He opened the door._

" _Hello?" he said cautiously. A man, gelled dark hair, collared shirt, khaki pants, was standing on their porch._

 _"Are you Leroy Jethro Gibbs?" the man asked._

" _Yes," Jethro answered. "Why?"_

 _"Hi, my name is Nick Sanchez, and I'm a social worker. I have you and your wife, Shannon, as registered foster parents, yes?"_

" _Yeah."_

" _Well, we have a situation."_

" _What kind," Jethro answered, already reaching for coat and badge and gun._

" _There is a boy in our system, Anthony DiNozzo, Jr., who needs a family. He is currently in the hospital, but we need someone to take care of him when he gets out. If you are agreeable to fostering him, I need you to go to Bethesda. They have paperwork that you need to fill out to be granted temporary custody. Will you do this?" Nick asked anxiously, pleading, almost._

 _Shannon, who Jethro hadn't seen walk up behind him, answered. "Damn straight we will."_

 _Nick laughed. "Okay. God, this is fantastic. Everyone in the system says y'all are amazing people. And Lord knows this kid needs amazing."_

 _They had driven to Bethesda, told the nurse at the desk about the situation. She had given them paperwork, Tony's file, and a room number, and wished them good luck. They had almost sprinted to Tony's room, where Nick was waiting for them. He had wished them good luck as well, told them he was gonna do everything he could possibly do to get them custody and that Tony was a good kid who had been thrown every single metaphorical curveball. Shannon had added Nick into her phone and the Christmas card list almost immediately, gave him a hug and a pat on the shoulder and told him she and Jethro could take it from here. And yes of course she'd call him._

 _End Flashback._

Now, Jethro was sitting in a hard chair waiting for his boy to wake up.

And then he did.

"Who are you?" he asked, almost immediately after he woke up. "You're not Nick."

"No," Jethro answered, "but we're friends with Nick."

Tony sagged into the bed with a deep sigh. "That means you're my new parents."

"Yeah," Jethro said. "Hold on a sec, 'kay? I gotta wake my wife up. Hey, Shan, Tony's awake!"

Shannon bolted upright and blinked sleep out of her eye. "He is?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, almost smiling. "I'm up."

"Hi! You feeling okay? Anything hurt? Do I need to get a doctor? Are you hungry?" Shannon asked, rapid fire.

"Uh…" Tony said.

"Sorry, buddy," Jethro said. "I think she's a little bit excited. We are. We've heard you're a good kid?"

"My Dad used to tell me that. But no one else does. So I'm probably not that good of a kid. I get in trouble at school a lot sometimes," Tony replied.

"Your dad was a good guy. I trust him a lot more than I trust anyone else. Except Nick. He said you're a good kid too," Shannon answered.

Tony blinked in surprise. "Thank you, ma'am. You don't have to say that, though."

Dr. Evans entered the room then. "Well, well, well. I heard that Big T was awake."

Tony brightened. "Dr. Evans! Long time no see! How're the kids and the wife, Doc?"

"Jake made straight A's last semester and Katie's loving college," Dr. Evans answered. "How are you feeling this fine morning? And be honest, please."

"Well, I'm definitely not concussed, but the arms and the ribs are feelin' a little funky. Katie's at Ohio State, right?"

"Yup, good ol' OSU. Yeah, I think you sprained your wrist, big guy. Can I see the ribs for a sec?"

Shannon and Jethro watched in bewilderment as Tony carried on a casual conversation with Dr. Evans, complete with various immature jokes on the part of both doctor and child.

"Shannon, Jethro, can I speak to you for a second? Wait here, Tony," Dr. Evans said.

Tony flashed a thumbs-up. "Not goin' anywhere, Doc. Except maybe the bathroom. Can I go to the bathroom?"

"Sure, Tony. I'll send Maggie in to wrap your wrist, tape your ribs, and let you go to the bathroom. Good kid."

Dr. Evans then led Jethro and Shannon to a small room off a hallway. He closed the door. "I trust you've read Tony's file, Jethro?"

"Yeah, Doc," Jethro replied.

"You gotta give this kid a good home," Dr. Evans pleaded. "You guys are his last chance. He really, really, needs someone. He has been in this hospital so much that Nurse Maggie and I are his closest friends, along with Nick Sanchez, who I believe you have already met."

"I understand, sir," Shannon told him firmly. "Nick is gonna help us make sure we keep him."

Dr. Evans looked them up and down and then nodded. "I hope so. For Tony's sake."

When they came back in the room, Tony was sitting in Jethro's chair without a shirt while Nurse Maggie taped his ribs. "Hey, man!" he exclaimed.

Jethro pointed at himself. "Me?"

"Yeah! Maggie told me you guys are pretty cool. So I guess I'll go with you. Hey, Doc, when can I blow this pop stand?"

"Maggie?" Dr. Evans asked.

"Well, as long as he keeps the wrist brace on and someone tapes his ribs, then I don't see any reason why y'all can't take him home now," Maggie said thoughtfully.

"Yesss!" Tony shouted. "Wait. Where's my stuff?"

"The Knoxes dropped it off with you," Dr. Evans said grimly. "I'll go get it while Jethro signs your paperwork."

As soon as Jethro signed his name to the discharge papers and Shannon took Tony's things from Dr. Evans, they were headed home (with Tony!)

The kid fell asleep on the thirty-minute drive back from Bethesda, only waking up when the car slowed and pulled into the driveway.

"Is this where you live?" he asked, taking in the house, big backyard, tire swing in the front, red door.

Jethro cut the engine and got out of the car. "Yeah. You like it?"

"Nah," Tony said.

"Damn it," Shannon replied.

"I love it!" Tony exclaimed happily.

* * *

 _Sunday Evening_

 _03 June 2017_

 _Lincoln, Maryland_

"Thank you for dinner," Tony said happily. "Where do you put your plates in the dishwasher?"

"You don't have to clear the table, Tony," Shannon answered.

"Who's gonna do it if I don't?" he asked nervously.

"I usually do it. Why don't you go with J and see if there's a baseball game on. I heard you play baseball?"

Tony brightened instantly. "Yeah! I play pitcher and second base. My team won the state championship two summers ago. Dad came back from deployment at the very last game! It was awesome!"

"Do you want to play here?" Jethro asked.

"I mean, if it's not too much trouble, then I would like to very much. But if it's gonna be a problem then I don't have to play. I don't want to cause any trouble."

"You can definitely play, kid. I really want to see you go at it."

"Thank you," Tony blushed. "Do the Nationals play tonight?"

"Why don't we go find out?" Jethro asked happily, beaming back at Shannon, who smiled, then snapped a towel at him.

* * *

 _Sunday Night_

 _03 June 2017_

 _Lincoln, Maryland_

Shannon, for the second time that long long day, leaned her head down on Jethro's shoulder. He kissed her head and smiled up at the ceiling.

"I love you, baby," he said to her.

"Love you more," she whispered back, kissing his scruff. "But you really need to shave."

"I need to shave and make some calls," he said. "We gotta get Tony enrolled in school and I need to change my file at NCIS 'cause I have a dependent now, I gotta get Ducky in the loop so he can tape Tony's ribs-"

"Shh, don't worry so much," Shannon said.

"I'm not worrying," Jethro retorted. "You just can't hear the Big Bang Theory."

"Shut up, Jethro," Shannon laughed. "You're so difficult sometimes."

And then it was his turn to laugh as Shannon promptly fell asleep.

* * *

 **This will be my third attempt at a kid Tony story. They say third time's the charm, right?**

 **This is going to be a super long AN but I just want to clarify a few things. First, I'm using some artistic license and changing Tony's backstory. Instead of Senior being the jerk, I'm making Tony's successive foster "parents" the jerks. Second, I have little to no knowledge of the foster system. If I get anything wrong, please do not ever hesitate to tell me and I will fix it best as I can. Thanks in advance! The fictional city of Lincoln, Maryland, is based off of the real city of Camp Springs, Maryland, which is a 17 minute drive from the Navy Yard.**

 **I'm using my own parents as a model for the interactions between Gibbs and Shannon. The dish towel incident, and Shannon's "J" nickname came from my father. Other Inspiration for this story comes from "The Boy and the Bunny" by El Spirito. I will never be able to live up to that story, but I have done my best to try. I hope everyone enjoys this story. I know I sure enjoyed writing it.**


	2. the first day

**"We meet the people we're supposed to when the time is just right**."

 **\- Alyson Noel**

* * *

 _Monday (Dawn)_

 _04 June 2017_

 _Lincoln, Maryland_

It's when you first wake up in a new place when it's the scariest, Tony knows. When you have to stare at the ceiling of another house with another fake family, fake smiles, fake laughter, and you have to lay there in bed and think about your life, and other freaky subjects. Or in this case, lay and look up at the ships/boats (they're blue), and think how this is your last chance now, how you've built up such a crappy reputation that _no one wants you._ How if you screw it up with Gibbs and Shannon, it's off to a group home, and you've heard _bad_ things about group homes. And you know Gibbs and Shannon have wanted a kid (forever) _,_ and they're laying it all on the line here, because Nick told you so when Dr. Evans pulled Gibbs and Shannon outside to talk to them, probably about the same things Nick just told you.

This is your last chance; you can't screw it up, Tony knows that so well it's like it's been burned into his brain.

Then he passes back out. Because it's 2:00am.

* * *

(Tony's POV)

 _Monday Morning_

 _04 June 2017_

 _Lincoln_

Breathing hurts! (Yay!) In, out. Ow. Yikes.

Okay, well, sitting in bed and moaning isn't going to do anything about my current predicament. Which is unfortunate because sitting in bed and moaning is something that I excel at. Other things I excel at include 1) sports, 2) drawing, 3) sleeping, and 4) procrastination. Frankly, I think that's a pretty good list.

Wait. Where have my manners gone? The Lieutenant would be ashamed.

My name is Anthony Dominic DiNozzo, Jr., and I am twelve (12) years old. For the next two days, at least. I turn thirteen (13) on June 6, 2017. I will be going into the eighth grade this fall which means that I will be the youngest in my grade. Again. My favorite sports are baseball and football and my favorite color is blue. My biological parents were the Lieutenant and Elizabeth Paddington DiNozzo. The Lieutenant was my name for my father, Anthony D. DiNozzo, Sr., a pilot in the United States Navy. My mother was a substitute teacher at William Cullen Bryant High School He and my mother were both killed on the way back from a doctor's appointment while I was at my best friend's house. My parents were coming home to tell me that I would be receiving a sibling in seven months. Unfortunately, a drunk driver had wildly different plans and I think you can figure out the rest. So that's the Tragic Past of Anthony D. DiNozzo. (I have had people tell me I am very cynical for my age. I have told them that cynical is not on my vocabulary list.)

Okay so now that that is out of the way we can finally get on with the story. Sorry for the disruption.

I decided, instead of moaning, I would look at the boats on the walls some more. Yesterday, before I went to bed, Gibbs had pointed out the boats to me and told me that tomorrow I could see a real ship. I told him that I've already been on a lot of ships, like when Dad's ship would have Family Day when they came back from deployment, or when I was nine and he took me on the Tiger Cruise (two weeks before he died). When I was eight, he took me and Mom to see the ships at the Naval Academy during graduation weekend. He told me stories about sailing on the waterfront during Plebe Summer and about when he got to fly over the ships and see new plebes during their own long hot summers. I promised him that one day he would get to fly over me during my summer and my graduation because my only goal in life is to make my dad proud.

After a while, the boats (the ones on the wall) started to look the same so I got out of bed and got dressed (painfully), Dad's Navy Baseball t-shirt, and my favorite shorts, no socks, and walk downstairs. Gibbs and Shannon are sitting at the table next to each other, drinking coffee, and reading the newspaper.

"Hi," I say, and wait.

"Mornin'," Gibbs mumbles.

"J," Shannon scolds him. "Hi, Tony!"

"Good morning," I reply. "Can I help with breakfast. You guys need anything?"

This catches Gibbs' attention. "Sit down, kid, and eat. You don't need to help us with anything. Shan, I'll bring 'm in, get Ducky to take a look. Bacon's on the table, Anthony."

"Whoa, okay, slow the train," I say. "First of all, Anthony is _my father's name._ Second, who is _Ducky._ That is not actually a person's name."

Shannon laughs with Gibbs. "Okay, then, Tony, we understand. You're Tony, he's Anthony. And Ducky is a person."

"He's the Medical Examiner," Gibbs says to me.

"You're gonna cut me up!" I shout. "No way!"

"You slow down, kid, we're not gonna cut you up. Jesus. Ducky's a doctor; he's gonna take a look at your ribs. Don't even try to pretend they're not hurting; you took five minutes to walk down the stairs."

"That's not – that's not what happened," I yelp, frustrated. "I'm not hurt!"

"Yes, you are," Shannon says kindly.

"Have some bacon, kid," Gibbs pushes a plate towards me, and that is the end of the conversation on whether I am actually hurt or not (just a little, that's all).

Shannon makes really good eggs and bacon and Gibbs is grumpy because his coffee got cold and Shannon says, _he's addicted to coffee,_ and Gibbs grins, _no I'm not honey, you're dreaming,_ and I shrug, _sure looks like you are, Gibbs._ I get the sports page, the Nationals lost, and while we are eating Gibbs and Shannon decide it's time for the interrogation. The Interrogation happens in each and every foster home I've ever been in, and it's when the parents ask me a bunch of questions about me (they don't care), my original parents, my interests (they don't care), and sometimes my favorite food (they really don't care).

"Full name?" Gibbs asks.

"You've read my file," I retort.

"Tony," he says. I can tell that Gibbs is not going to be easy to work around just from that tone of voice. You can usually tell whether a foster parent is going to be really annoying or really easy just by their tone of voice. Gibbs is gonna be really annoying. He's got a really strong tone of voice like my dad used to have and he can really get your attention. (great).

"Were you in the military?" I ask.

"Answer the question."

"My name is Anthony Dominic DiNozzo Junior. I am twelve years old and my birthday is June 6. My parents were Lt. Anthony DiNozzo Senior and Elizabeth DiNozzo. Were you in the military?"

Gibbs looks surprised. "Marines. Thank you."

"Are we done yet?" I ask. "I've done this a million times."

"Yeah," Shannon says. "J, it's time for you guys to go. Tony, do you have like a collared shirt or anything you can wear? I want you to make a good impression."

"Yes, ma'am," I reply. "I'll go upstairs and get it."

"Don't get it, put it on," Gibbs tells me.

I turn around on the second step and salute. _"Aye, sir!"_ I shout.

"Collared shirt, funny boy," Gibbs says, but he's smiling just the same way that Shannon is laughing while she clears the table, and I sprint the rest of the way up the stairs to put on my shirt.

* * *

"So," I say in the car while we're crossing the Anacostia River. "What's NCIS?"

"You're the son of a Navy Lieutenant and you've never heard of NCIS?" Gibbs asks incredulously.

"Look, he died when I was nine! It's not like I was paying attention to the Human Resources department of the Navy! I wanted to see big guns and big ships and stuff!"

"Okay, first of all, _we are not the_ human resources _department of the Navy,_ Tony. We are the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, and we investigate the deaths of service members in the Navy and Marine Corps, especially if they are suspicious," Gibbs answers sharply.

I stop in shock. "So you investigated my dad's death?"

"I didn't personally," Gibbs says, "but yes, a team from NCIS investigated the deaths of your parents. It wasn't foul play, kid."

"I knew that," I mumble.

The car falls silent after that depressing discussion. I mean, I knew my parents weren't killed out of a grudge for them, or the Navy or anything. It was just a drunk driver who ran a red light.

The police officers – or NCIS special agents – who did the investigations were real nice. They let me have some of the stuff from Dad's car, like his watch and their wedding bands, and I keep those in a box in my bag, and I'm never gonna let anyone take them away from me. If I ever get to have a son, I am going to name him Vincent and give him my mom's engagement ring for his wife, because I think that's what my mom and dad would have wanted. And when the police officers had to sell the house, they let me go through it and fill up Dad's seabag with the stuff I wanted. I kept his lieutenant shoulder boards, and a few picture albums, and mom's t-shirt that smelled like her, and my baseball jerseys and the posters on the wall and the picture of me and Mom and Dad at the Army-Navy Game they year before they died. And all the stuff that I wanted to keep that didn't fit in Dad's seabag, well, I have a storage unit in Annapolis, Maryland, co-paid for by Dad's Navy buddies and Mom's teacher friends.

And the best thing they let me keep was the sonogram from my baby brother, the sonogram that Mom and Dad were bringing home to let me see. His name was gonna be Vincent. (that's why my son's gonna be Vince) So it woulda been Tony and Vince, the best brothers ever. I would have taught him everything about getting girls, and playing sports, and how to tie a tie and buy Mom chocolate when Dad deploys. So like all the stuff that Dad taught me. And I woulda been real nice to him, and me and Vince were gonna be best friends. Like the movies. But anyway. Mom and Dad and Vincent died. So.

"We're here," Gibbs says. "Welcome to NCIS."

I climb out of the car and re-tuck my shirt into my shorts like Shannon told me to do. "Wow. Nice parking garage."

"Funny," he replies.

"Can we go in?" I ask eagerly, because I am kind of excited to see where Gibbs works and if he works with any nice people and if I recognize any of the special agents from when my parents died.

Gibbs gives me a funny look. "That's what we're doing, kid." He adopts a fake tour guide voice. "Now this is the elevator, and if we press 3, we're gonna go up to the bullpen."

"Like where the pitchers warm up? I once got to see Zach Britton warm up at the Orioles game."

"You born in Maryland?" Gibbs asks me.

"Annapolis, home of the best football team ever."

"The Midshipmen?"

"Yes sir!" I say. "We're gonna beat Army next year."

"Yup," Gibbs says casually. "Sure."

"We are!" I protest. "I promise."

The elevator dings and releases us into a bright orange room.

"This is not the greatest color, Gibbs."

"Shh. People are working."

A brown-haired lady comes up to us with a big fat folder. "Gibbs, this is for you, and what the hell do you have a kid up here for?"

I stick out my hand. "Hi, my name is Tony."

"Yeah?" she says curiously. "Kate."

"Good morning, Agent Todd," Gibbs says icily. "How was your weekend?"

"It was good, Gibbs, how was yours?"

He looks at me. "Pretty good. Is Ducky in?"

"Yeah, I saw him downstairs twenty minutes ago," a new man says.

"Thanks, McGee," Gibbs says.

"Tony, stay here with McGee and sit quietly while I talk to the Director, please," he says. "I'll be back."

"Hi, McGee, my name is Tony. I'm twelve."

"Nice to meet you, Tony," McGee says genuinely, sticking out his hand.

I shake it. "Does your chair spin?"

He shares a look with Kate. "I'm not sure—"

"—aw, just let the kid," Kate says.

"If he gets sick, you're cleaning it up," McGee grumbles.

"I won't," I inform McGee. "I don't get sick real easy. Not even seasick," I say proudly, and Kate grins.

"McSeasick here," she begins.

"Shut up, Kate!" McGee exclaims. "That's not funny!"

I am spinning in the chair while I watch them argue. They are funny. I am pretty glad that Gibbs gets to work with funny people because I think everyone should work with people that they like. Dad always told me that. He worked with people he liked. That's where he met my mom. She came to the base and gave a speech on harassment in the workplace, and Dad fell in love. Least, that's what he told me. Mom always used to roll her eyes but she laughed anyway.

"Stop spinning the chair, you'll break it," Gibbs says suddenly.

I hop right out of the chair and stumble sideways into McGee. He yelps and shoves me upright.

"Director Vance," Gibbs says sharply, "this is my foster son, Anthony DiNozzo."

I stick out my hand for approximately the hundredth time. "Tony, sir. Nice to meet you."

Director Vance removes the toothpick from his mouth and shakes my hand (with the non-toothpick hand). "Likewise, Tony."

"Thank you, sir," I say.

"Director, I was going to take him to Ducky, if that is okay with you. We are not working any active cases and I will leave him with Ducky if Dispatch calls."

"Fine by me, Agent Gibbs," Vance replies, and re-inserts his toothpick. "Nice to see you, Tony."

"You too, Director. Bye, McGee and Kate! See you soon!" I manage to squeak out before I am dragged away by Gibbs.

"Honestly, Tony," he says in the elevator _again._ "Spinning?"

"It was fun!" I protest.

Gibbs rolls his eyes. When the elevator beeps "two," we get off and walk into a really cold room with a bunch of long tables.

"Is this where they chop people up?" I hiss to Gibbs.

"Ah, Jethro," a British voice says. Or maybe Scottish. I can't tell. But it sounds like British. Like the fancy people on TV.

"Mornin', Duck," Gibbs says. "Brought a living patient for you today."

An older man in blue scrubs emerges from a room, drying his hands. He is wearing a bow tie. I like bow ties; they're cool. Dad used to wear a bow tie with his dress uniform whenever he and Mom went to the fancy dinners on base, like the Navy Birthday Dinner, and I would stay at home with a babysitter named Julia, and we would play board games until it was time for me to go to bed. She was really nice. Her dad was a photographer and she took pictures of people too. So sometimes she would make me model for her photography class at school which I didn't mind because all I had to do was sit and read a book and she was happy with that. Julia went to the University of Maryland.

I haven't seen her in almost five years because when I was nine my dad decided that I was old enough to stay home alone on base. _The MP's will watch out for him,_ he'd say to my mom. _If you're sure, Anthony,_ she would say, and then she would kiss me a lot and leave me alone. I got to watch one movie and reheat dinner and I had to go to bed at 9:45 at the very latest but sometimes I fell asleep on the couch in the middle of my movie.

Those were the days.

"Well, young man," Ducky says to me, "if you'd hop up on that table there."

"Are you gonna chop me up?"

Ducky gives me a look. "No, Anthony. I am not going to give you an autopsy."

A thought comes to me. "Did you do my dad's autopsy? When he died?"

Ducky sighs, a deep sad sigh. "Yes, I did. I'm very sorry, Anthony. I have heard he was a brilliant man."

"He was," I tell Ducky. "He was real nice. And so was my mom. They were the best."

"Lift your shirt, Tony, let Duck see your ribs," Gibbs orders me.

"On the first date?" I ask.

Ducky chuckles. "You've got a funny one, Jethro," and as he is saying this, yanks my shirt up over my head with the help of Gibbs, who has sneaked up behind me.

"Hey!" I yelp. "That's not fair!"

But no one is listening to me. Instead, they are staring at the blue bruises dotting my ribs. (they're fading! they're fine!)

"Oh, my," Ducky says.

"It's not that bad, honest," I plead. "They don't even hurt!"

I mean, that's not completely true, I guess, they do hurt a little bit, but it's not enough for me to complain about it, right? I've had worse, like I've been in the hospital for five days once when I got thrown down two flights of stairs and cracked my skull (the knoxes said that's where my intelligence went) (but then I got all A's, so…) and then I was shipped to another family. So that was the worst, I think. This time wasn't that bad, relatively speaking. I only got kicked like six times before the neighbors heard me shouting and called the cops. I think at this point I have sent four people to jail for child neglect or something like that which for being twelve/thirteen is probably not a good track record if you ask me. Anyway, this injury right now is definitely not the worst I have ever had and either way, it doesn't usually matter to people so I've learned to just ignore it.

Ducky pokes an especially tender part of my ribs. "Ouch, Ducky, that hurt!"

Gibbs smirks.

"That's not funny, Gibbs," I mumble.

"I don't think anything's broken, Jethro," Ducky says. "I can tape these up easily."

Gibbs breathes in relief. (relief?) "Thanks, Duck."

Ducky pokes and prods a little more before wrapping my ribs up. "Anything else?"

I am about to say NO when Gibbs answers for me. "Wrist."

"That looks fine, Jethro," Ducky saves me. "I don't think there's anything to worry about."

"Are you sure?" Gibbs asks.

"Absolutely sure."

As I am rebuttoning my shirt, Gibbs' phone rings. "It's dispatch," he says. "Dead Marine. Duck, can you take Tony to Abby? I'm gonna go drop something off at the lab and then we're heading out. Thanks Duck!" and he rushes out.

* * *

 _Monday Noon_

 _04 June 2017_

 _Washington Navy Yard_

So when Gibbs said he was gonna drop stuff off at the lab, it was code for, "give Abby a ton of lists and stuff that Shannon made so she can drag Tony shopping for three hours!" I mean, I got a hamburger out of it so I guess it was okay.

… but _three hours of errands?_

Anyway so I got to meet Abby and at this moment, I am not sure that I have enough vocabulary to describe the tornado that is Abby Sciuto. She is like a _really_ friendly Goth and anyone who can pull that off is pretty cool in my book. She is also super funny and made lots of jokes while we were shopping.

Shannon gave us the grocery list (lots of coffee for Gibbs) and then Abby had to drag me off to get a dress shirt for church and a new pair of tennis shoes because apparently mine are falling off my feet? (they're not). But then after that we got to go have lunch and then Abby had to go back to the lab to Analyze DNA for Gibbs.

"So," Abby says when we're back in her lab. "Why are you staying with Gibbs?"

I've only told this story a million times today; one more won't hurt. "My dad was a Navy pilot who got killed in a car accident with my mom by a drunk driver. Then I got bounced around in foster care for a while and now I'm with Gibbs. Boom, done, don't ask me again."

"Okay," she says, "foster care sucks sometimes," and that's the end of the conversation. She slides a packet of paper and a pencil towards me. "Gibbs says you like to draw. He wants you to 'sit here and make pretty pictures' while they're working the case. His words, not mine."

"These will be the prettiest pictures in the entire state of Washington."

"You live in Washington state?" she asks. "That's a rough commute."

"Funny. The entire _District_ of Washington. Are we clear now?"

Abby grins. "Crystal."

As it turns out, cases take approximately forever to finish, and Abby even says this was a quick one. By the time Gibbs is packed up and ready to leave, it's 6:12pm and I have drawn 15 pretty pictures. Airplanes, flowers, and Abby's stuffed hippo. And Zach Britton, my favorite baseball player. Gibbs comes down to the lab and picks me up (not literally) and I get to go back up to the bullpen and say goodbye to everyone.

"Do you want a picture of a flower?" I ask Kate.

She takes my drawing and examines it. "Yeah, sure, I'll take it. Nice drawing, Tony." She leans over and tacks the picture on the corkboard behind her desk. "Thanks."

"Hey!" McGee says. "Do I get one?"

"Sure! You can have the Elf Lord." I hand the drawing over. Abby says that McGee plays a lot of role-playing video games and his favorite person to be is an Elf Lord. So she printed out a picture of the Elf Lord for me and I got to draw it.

"Did Abby show you this?" he asks grumpily.

"Yup," I grin.

Gibbs is trying to hide a smile behind his coffee but he is definitely failing because everyone can see it.

"Adios, Elf Lord," I say.

"Bye, Tony," McGee says. "Thanks for the drawing."

"See you later, Tony," Kate pats me on the head. "Nice to meet you. If you keep messing with McGee like that, you can come back anytime."

"Bye, guys!" I holler from the elevator while Gibbs is herding me into it. "See you soon!"

* * *

 _Monday Night_

 _04 June 2017_

 _Lincoln_

Gibbs and I don't get back home too late, because Lincoln is only 15 minutes from the Navy Yard, or so Gibbs says. If I had a watch, I would've timed it.

While I am lying in bed waiting to fall asleep, I am thinking about how this has been one of the best days in a long time. I got to go see where my foster dad works, which doesn't ever happen, and I made like three new friends: Kate, Abby, and McGee. And Ducky too, but I have to talk to him while he's not taping my ribs for him to count as a friend. I think he'll count when I see him again, though. Anyway, I got to draw a bunch too and Shannon says they were really good, and I can't tell if she's saying that because she likes me, or if she was saying that because they were actually good. Sometimes it's a little of both, but this time I think they were good because Gibbs said they were nice too and I don't think Gibbs is the type of person to say something is nice when it's not.

So at dinner tonight (we had pasta), we were talking about how my birthday is in two days, and Shannon says that tomorrow we can make a cake and on Wednesday we can invite Gibbs' work friends over and have a party in the backyard, which is gonna be _awesome!_ I haven't had a real birthday party in forever. And maybe next year, if I'm still with Gibbs and Shannon, I'll have friends who are my age and we can go to a movie. I hope I'll make some friends when I start school. Gibbs says I probably will because I play so many sports and sports are the best way to make friends. And tomorrow I get to ride bikes around our neighborhood and see if anyone else is outside. Hopefully I will make any kind of friend and then I'll know someone when school starts up.

For a last chance, I got _pretty darn lucky._

* * *

 **Sorry this took so long! My school's team ended up winning our semifinal game but then lost in the championship. Then it was Christmas and New Years and school got really crazy with the new semester and I just never had time to sit down and get anything done. But I tried to make it up with an extra long chapter! I hope you guys had a happy holidays and New Year! Good luck in 2018!**

* * *

 **1\. William Cullen Bryant High School** is a real High School located in Long Island City, New York.

 **2\. Plebe Summer** is the six-week boot camp style orientation for incoming freshman (plebe) midshipmen at the United States Naval Academy.

 **3\. Tiger Cruise** is when the family members of sailors on a ship get to spend 3-5 days aboard the ship and experience life at sea.

 **4.** I am going to assume that the Baltimore Orioles are Tony's favorite baseball team, as he was born and grew up (until age 9) in Maryland.


End file.
